


It's My Favorite Story

by harleygirl2648



Series: Hannibal/Addams Family AU [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Addams Family AU, Arranged Marriage, Crack Treated Seriously, Declarations Of Love, Light Angst, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Sappy, if you've seen the episode morticia's romance, then you know where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleygirl2648/pseuds/harleygirl2648
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail tells Freddie the story of her fathers' romance. WARNING: SUPER FLUFFY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Best Laid Plans Sometimes Go Awry

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this AU: http://stolligaseptember.tumblr.com/post/129408149447/the-addams-family-au

“So tell me about your family, Abigail,” Freddie said in attempt to start a conversation with her charge. It was far too late to play Spanish Inquisition but the little girl wasn’t ready for bed, and Freddie wasn’t exactly ready to sleep in this mausoleum.

“Father and Papa adopted me when I was a baby. They found me on the doorstep on the night of a blue moon,” Abigail said seriously, brushing Bloody Mary’s hair. “Father says it was as magical as the first time he met Papa. That always makes Papa’s ears turn red whenever he says things like that.”

Freddie almost snorted at the mental picture. “I’d love to hear that story.”

Abigail looked up and beamed. “Good! It’s my favorite.”

Clearing her throat and motioning for Freddie to sit on the bed next to her, she began: “Once upon a time…”

* * *

“Well, Jack, it certainly is an honor for my daughter to marry your son,” Mr. Graham said as he sipped his tea and turned to his daughter with a large grin. “Isn’t it, Bedelia?”

“A real treat,” she said dryly, making Alana snort. “Do you have anything stronger than tea?”

Hannibal smiled and offered a glass he had poured. “Bordeaux?”

“Thank you,” she replied, taking a long drink.

Mr. Graham straightened up suddenly, sighing. “Oh, damn, I’ve just realized. I lost one.”

“One what?” Jack asked. “Marble? We’ve surely got a few lying around.”

“No, one child. Bedelia, where’s your brother?”

“Am I his keeper?”

At that moment the front door opened with a bang, and Will Graham rushed in, hair stuck in his eyes and suit jacket askew, a dog following happily at his heels. His father rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry, case work was running late and I was–“ he stopped dead in his explanation as he locked eyes with Hannibal. Both looked they’d been shot with a crossbow, Alana thought.

_"Quite a scene, Will," Hannibal had said earlier that day over a particularly gruesome tableau. He stood close to Will, close enough to smell that dreadful aftershave he adored._

_"Indeed it is, Hannibal," Will said lowly, eyes shining. "It's beautiful. Thank you."_

_It was times like this Hannibal felt the rest of the world fade away and wanted nothing more than he and Will to be alone with their thoughts. But it was not to be as Will's supervisor walked over._

_"Will? What are we looking at here? Some sort of threat?"_

_"Far from it," Will had said, bending down to his knees to stroke the deep cut marks on the victim's neck. As though he were compelled as Hannibal kneeled on the other side, 'accidentally' brushing his fingers against Will's. Their eyes locked together as Will said, "This isn't a threat; it's a sign of admiration. A declaration of love..._

“Hannibal? Do you know each other?” Alana asked, suddenly, prodding him out of his thoughts.

He blinked and slid the person mask back on. “Yes, dear. We’ve…consulted on a few cases. They wanted an insight on the killer’s motives and I was happy to oblige.”

Will shuffled his feet, swallowed, and sat over near his father, refusing tea and muttering about migraines.

“Do you want something for your head, Will?” Jack asked. “I’ve got just the thing for that.”

He shook his head. “Thank you, but no. I’ve had chronic migraines since I was little. Too much thinking, I suppose.”

At that moment, in an attempt to direct the conversation elsewhere, Will’s father asked about dinner. Hannibal didn’t answer until the dog was sniffing his expensive trousers and then barked.

“Will, take it outside, please,” Mr. Graham said in exasperation, turning to Jack. “I’m terribly sorry about this. He has a penchant for strays, it seems.”

“Oh no, it’s quite all right,” Hannibal said, but it sounded to Alana as though he wasn’t as focused as usual, his eyes not leaving Will's face. “Dinner’s in the oven, it will be done in a half hour. In the meantime, Will, would you like to take him outside?” The last part was aimed at the dog that was trying to jump up into his lap.

“I’d love to,” Will answered quietly. “Here, Winston. Come on.” Alana watched them leave the room, and narrowed her eyes as she could tell Hannibal had reached for Will’s hand, and then quickly drew away.

 

“So, when were you going to inform me you had a sister?” Hannibal said with just a tinge of ice in his tone as they toured the garden, Winston begging Hannibal for the treats he always brought for him when he was around Will.

“Probably when you were going to inform me that you were engaged,” Will answered back smartly, scuffing his feet along the grass and trying to fix his tie. Hannibal watched as his fingers fiddled with the thin black strip of silk.

“You hate things around your neck.”

“Well, I was supposed to look presentable for my future in-laws.”

“You’re always more than presentable,” Hannibal said lowly as he gently removed the tie from Will’s neck. The corners of a smile tugged at Will’s mouth.

“You could talk an angel out of heaven, you know that?”

“That’s the idea, darling,” Hannibal smirked.

Will laughed, his eyes falling closed in bliss as he said, “I don’t know why, but I never have a headache around you.”

He felt the faintest kiss brush across his lips and he forced himself to pull away. Opening his eyes, he saw concern etched across Hannibal’s face.

“Is something the matter, Will?”

“The engagement to my sister, perhaps?”

“I’ll break it off," Hannibal said immediately, deeply serious.

Will gasped. “You can’t do that, Hannibal. What will she say? Or my father?”

“I don’t care, Will. I love you, I want to marry you instead, and I'll break it off.” Will took a deep breath and then began a rambling sermon that Hannibal knew had been instilled in him since he was a child. A long speech on “family honor” and something about his father always being right and something about their reputation, but in all honesty, his lips were so damn _distracting_ that he realized that he wasn't paying any attention.

"I'm so sorry, Will, what were you saying?"

"I'm saying that this can't go on. You have to marry my sister, and I just can't disrespect her by sneaking around with her fiancé. Do you understand?"

_No. No, I don't.  You're mine, Will. All mine._

"It is your decision, Will. I can respect that," he said, pretending to sound defeated. And as Will leaned forward to call Winston back from sniffing the Venus fly traps, he suddenly caught Will's arm, pulling him close and talking into his ear "But I need you to know,  _caro mio,_ that I'm going to marry her simply to keep you in my life, because I can't go on unless you are with me."

Will shuddered slightly before slipping out his grasp, looking in his eyes before turning away.

 

Alana was tinkering with her C-4 after dinner when Hannibal flung open her door and nearly slammed it, making them both jump.

"You nearly blew us to Houston!" she yelped, clutching the explosive to her chest.

"Listen to me, Alana, this is very important. I need to you to convince Will to allow me to call off the wedding."

Confusion spread across her features. "Why?"

"So that I can marry Will instead."

A very long, stunned, pause.

"I think I'm missing something. Start from the beginning. Go slow. Talk like I'm still a child."

After an hour-long speech of adoration and romance that made her want to gag, she finally broke down.

"Alright, I get it, he's the love of your life, your one true love, the only reason you are still breathing, yada yada yada. Now, what do you want me to do again?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is very rough but i promise the next two chapters will be even better!


	2. Stubbornness And Jealously Lead To Broken Knives

Two weeks and _four_ murder tableaus depicting grief later, and _still_ no progress had been made with Will.

_"This is a nightmare," the supervisor said, staring into the deep cavern in the victim's chest. The heart had been removed and torn to shreds, most likely with bare hands. Will ran his gloved_ _hands over the shredded organ and sighed._

_"What do think, Will?" Hannibal said, very pointedly. "In my personal opinion, it would appear that our killer isn't dealing with rejection of the highest level very well."_

_"Perhaps the intended viewer didn't mean the rejection should be taken to this level."_

_"Perhaps the killer is desperate for his intended affections and is unwilling to let the intended viewer get away so easily."_

_"Well, the killer shouldn't resort to using corpses as mediums to express his affections."_

No matter how much Will wanted the marriage to be called off, he wouldn’t allow Hannibal to do it.

Alana was trying to convince him, she really was, because they deserved to be happy together; but nope, Will never fell for any of her arguments. She had even sat through at least five iterations of the whole ‘family honor’ speech.

No matter what Hannibal kept telling her, his lips were not distracting in the least.

Alana tried to convince Hannibal that she was doing her best, but damn, “he’s as stubborn as you are.”

Hannibal didn’t find that amusing, and honestly, it’s hard to keep a straight face as a grown man frowns while hanging upside-down from a chandelier.

And then the night before the wedding happened.

“Will, you seem to be spending a lot of time with Alana lately,” Mr. Graham said at dinner, in order to engage him in the conversation. Will looked up from a mouthful of braised pork and swallowed slowly.

“Yes. She’s been showing me around, teaching me her hobbies,” he said quietly.

“How’s your head?” Jack asked as Miriam passed a tray to him.

“Much better. Has been since I’ve been staying here,” Will answered without thinking. He suddenly became fascinated with poking his food with a fork. "I think the atmosphere here calms my mind, somehow."

“Perhaps our youngest should also be wed, Jack,” Mr. Graham said, in a frighteningly serious tone. Alana nearly choked and Will took a long drink of whiskey.

SNAP. The steak knife Hannibal was holding broke completely in half in his grasp. Alana instinctively kicked him in the shin under the table when she noticed the pure anger in his eyes. _Possessiveness_. It didn’t do any good as the knife crumbled into unrecognizable pieces. It wasn’t until Will coughed loudly into his whiskey while glaring at Hannibal that he finally snapped out of his barely-contained rage. He looked down at the remains of his knife and took a breath.

“I beg your pardon, the cutlery…I’ve been saving the best for tomorrow, and this set is only a hundred years old and…excuse me, please,” Hannibal said as he rose from his chair. Jack nodded and turned back to whatever Mr. Graham was saying, the novelty of the situation wearing off quickly. Hannibal walked away from the table without even looking at Will as he left the room.

Will started rubbing his left temple like crazy, fingers on his other hand drumming furiously on the table.

 _How’re you going to get out of this one, Will?_ Alana thought. She knew he just wanted to go argue some more with Hannibal.

Finally he slammed his hand down on the table and stood up with a start.

“Gotta…my head…I…I…think I need to lie down,” he babbled, already turning to leave.

“You and him both,” Alana muttered into her wineglass. He glared at her before he left in a huff.

_Drama queens._

She smiled at Bedelia, who looked bored as usual. “Brothers, huh?”

The blonde woman cracked a smile.

 

“Please get down.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hannibal, you are fifteen years older than me, and yet you are acting like a child. Don’t make me get the garden shears again.”

_"Hannibal, I'm not marrying Alana!" Will had practically shouted, his curls getting in his eyes. Hannibal roughly brushed them out of his eyes and pressed his lips to Will's, jealously and anger seeping into the kiss. Will allowed the kiss, letting it get deeper and pulling Hannibal closer before roughly pushing him away._

_"Why can't you-"_

_"Because I-"_

_And their lips met in another angry kiss._

The argument ended with Will slamming his guest room door shut and Hannibal going back up on the chandelier.

“You’re getting married tomorrow, get off of there.”

“I’ll never come down, Alana,” he snapped, uncharacteristic of him as he folded his hands together across his chest. “I’m a man of my word.”

“All right then. I have a plan to get all of us out of this mess. Do you want to hear it or not?”

Cold silence. Frederick dusted around him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, here’s what we do: you marry Bedelia tomorrow, and, ugh, I’ll marry Will. Then we’ll just switch beds afterwards.”

Even colder silence, complete with an angry upside-down glare.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad.”

“You are _not_ marrying Will. I won't allow you to.”

“ _You’re_ not marrying him either, just as a reminder.”

At this point she could feel the temperature in the room dropping and yet, his glare was even hotter if possible.

“Fine,” she sighed, “I won’t marry Will.”

“Under _any_ circumstances.”

“Oh, for-" Alana rolled her eyes. "Fine, under _any_ circumstances.”

“Do you _swear_  this on your life or else suffer eternal punishment in the darkest pits of hell?”

“Yes, I _swear_ it, now come down.”

“Never. I'll let myself rot away to nothing but bone on this chandelier. There is nothing that could convince me to climb off."

She threw her hands up in disgust and walked out, pausing at the doorway.

“By the way,” she said casually, “Will wanted to speak with you.”

THUD.

Alana cackled. “Good, you’re off. Go to sleep, you’re getting married in the morning.”

“It feels more like a funeral," Hannibal muttered as he dusted off his suit jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, next chapter is the wedding! it's going to be so fluffy and cute with just a touch of angst. tune in soon!


	3. Eternity Isn't Nearly Enough Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready for some tooth-rotting fluff with morbid overtones?!

The day of the wedding began with a horrendous thunderstorm that shook the foundation of the house.

“A gorgeous dress and a beautiful day for getting hitched in the living room,” Alana said to Bedelia as she brushed her hair. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Thrilled,” she answered dryly as Alana fastened the last few hairpins. “It’s my ticket out of the family home, after all. One has to be excited about that at the very least.”

_Knock knock._

“Come in,” Alana called cheerfully. Will opened the door, dressed for a funeral more than a wedding, with black pants with a black dress shirt that he refused to wear a tie with.

He handed Bedelia the bouquet that he and Alana had picked from the garden that morning. Of course, he had been trying to avoid any and all interactions with Hannibal before the ceremony.

_One more press against a wall, one more whispered plea in my ear, one more kiss, and my self-resolve might just crumble into ash._

“How do I look?” Bedelia asked, snapping him out of his thoughts as she gave a small twirl in the gown. He smiled, ignoring the sharp pangs of jealousy and hurt in his chest.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Good. Let’s go,” Alana said, giving Will one last hard look as they walked out the door.

 

Will had not moved his eyes from the living room floor since he took his seat. Not to speak to his old friend Margot, who had tried to talk with him before Mason whisked her off to sit by herself in the back. Not as he could hear Hannibal talking to Jack about something or other. Not even as he listened to the wedding march while Bedelia walked down the aisle. He was resigned to martyrdom, damn it. Nothing is going to change that.

Nothing...

“As tradition states,” the priest said after whatever speech he'd been giving (Will hadn't been listening) “I must ask: does anyone object to this wedding?”

 _I do_ ,Will thought automatically, as he decided to finally look at Hannibal for the first time since the ceremony began, and quite possibly the last time like this.

And what a strange look was on his face as he stared back. And Bedelia’s, for that matter. And frankly, Alana was staring in his direction with a look of absolute shock.

So were the rest of the guests. And his father was hissing something behind him.

“Did I say that out loud?” Will said, horrified, his quiet voice seemingly booming in the dead silence as he immediately stood up and made for the aisle, ready to bolt out of the room and leave forever.

“I can’t proceed without hearing the reason,” the priest said, far too calmly for Will's thoughts right now.

“Yes, Will,” Hannibal spoke, in a low tone that sent shivers right down his spine. “Why can’t this marriage proceed?”

 _The hell with it_ , Will thought as he took a deep breath.

“Because you don’t love her, and she doesn’t love you," he declared. "But I do. I do. I love you. God, I love you.”

The silence that followed was like an icy knife pressed directly against his throat.

 _Well, time to leave this house forever. I am definitely disowned after this so I’ll just go home and grab Winston and move to Alaska and wait why is Hannibal walking towards me oh god I can’t read his expres_ – oh.

 _Oh_.

Any and all thoughts he had were snuffed out like a candle the second Hannibal’s arms pulled him close for a deep kiss in front of absolutely everyone.

“Thank God,” Bedelia muttered, pulling off her veil. Alana let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Jack just smiled while Will’s father was practically frothing with rage, sputtering out disbeliefs and curses.

After a very long while passed and Alana was checking the clock and wondering if some loud coughing as a hint might do the trick, they finally pulled apart.

“Will,” his father hissed, seething, “We are leaving, and you are not coming back here ever again, do you understand me? I can’t believe that you would even consider – are you even listening to me?”

Of course he wasn’t. How could he, with Hannibal tightening his grip on his hip and staring at him with the utmost adoration?

“Will, _caro mio_ , my dearest,” he said softly, his free hand tracing his jawline, “I love you, forever and always.”

Mr. Graham was turning an interesting shade of red. “Will, we are leaving right now.”

“No, we’re not,” Bedelia broke in suddenly, coming down and walking over to Will, Alana trailing behind her. She handed him her bouquet, a genuine smile on her face for once.

“Get up there, Will, you deserve it. And sit down, Father,” she said, taking a seat and pulling him down next to her.

“But-“

“Oh, hush,” Jack said, “Let them get married, already. They have my blessing.”

At that, Mr. Graham threw his hands up in surrender and exasperation while muttering something to Mason behind him. Alana took this opportunity to sneak to the back and steal the seat next to Margot, sharing a secret smile with the lovely, yet lonely woman.

Hannibal, whose eyes hadn’t left Will’s this entire time, took Will’s hand in his own.

“Will you marry me, Will? Belong to me for all eternity?”

For the first time in what had felt like ages, Will laughed, the pure happiness a foreign feeling for him. It was like slowly dragging a knife against a major artery and drinking an entire glass of champagne in one gulp.

“Darling,” he said, the laughter ringing clear in his voice, “I’ve been yours since you carved your devotion across my skin. And eternity is not nearly enough time.”

Hannibal traced the place on Will’s stomach where the scar was and smiled.

Will could only laugh again. “Of course I'll marry you, Hannibal. Where else would I go?”

Will allowed himself to be led up to the front where he held both of Hannibal’s hands and looked into his eyes. He was certain that the smile on both of their faces would never fade away.

“Let’s try this again, friends,” the priest said. “Dearly beloved…”

 

* * *

 

“And then they got married, found me, and lived happily ever after,” Abigail finished, grinning widely. “Did you like it?”

“I did,” Freddie said, finding herself smiling along with the little girl. She rose up from her spot on the bed. “And it’s all true?”

“Yes! Well, Auntie Bedelia and Auntie Alana will sometimes try to correct Father and Papa, saying that that’s not what really happened. But they tell it so much better.”

“I’ll bet they do, Abigail. Now, it’s time for us to go to bed, okay? Do you need anything before I go to my room?”

“No thank you. Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bats bite.”

To her credit, Freddie only paused for a moment before heading out the door. Abigail went back to brushing Bloody Mary’s hair, but it wasn’t long before she heard the special knock at the door.

“Abigail, darling, are you going to bed?”

She dropped the doll and hurriedly undid her braids, practically bouncing on the bed. “Yes, Papa. Will you and Father come and tuck me in?”

“Of course, darling,” Will said, pushing open the door with Hannibal behind him. He drew the covers over her, while Hannibal covered her in her favorite black-spider-patterned blanket. They both bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead.

“Goodnight, darling.” “ _Buona notte, tesora_.”

“I’m not ready to sleep yet,” Abigail said, wiggling out of the covers enough to grab both of their hands and pull them back.

Hannibal smiled at the sweet gesture. “Would you like a story, Abigail?”

“Yes, please!” she giggled as they laughed and arranged themselves on her bed, enough space at the foot for both of them to sit comfortably, her fathers holding each other's hands as well as hers.

“Which one would you like to hear, darling?”

She beamed. “My favorite.”

Hannibal and Will exchanged knowing and adoring glances at each other before turning back to her.

“Very well, _tesora_ ,” Hannibal said fondly, clearing his throat before starting: “Once upon a time…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. End of the line. This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written in my life, and I'm so happy with how the last chapter turned out! Thank you to everyone who's been following this series and this work, and I love all of your lovely comments and kudos!


	4. Epilogue: Another Story For Another Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two-parter epilogue: Hannigram sexiness and some Abigail and Freddie fluff!
> 
> If you're reading this for the first time: Thank you so much for checking it out!
> 
> If you're one of my regulars for this series: I've added some extra stuff to other chapters, so enjoy that, and please enjoy this little epilogue!

After Abigail had drifted into sleep halfway through the story, Will quietly left her room. He felt Hannibal's nearly silent footsteps behind him and smiled before breaking into a run. It was a game, the thrill of the hunt was nearly sweeter than evading the hunter or catching the prey. Though it was satisfying for both when Hannibal pinned Will against the wall.

"I let you catch me," Will said with a sly grin before Hannibal managed to kiss it off and worked his way down to his neck.

"Of course. And you have already caught me," Hannibal said, murmuring into Will's neck. "I do love that story."

"Mmmm, I do too. Though I am glad you don't go into the reception afterwards."

"I barely remember it, _caro mio_."

"Because you practically dragged me out of it after a few hellos and carried me up the stairs."

"Now  _that_ I do remember," Hannibal purred, kissing Will again. "In fact, I would enjoy… _reminiscing_ …that night in our room right now."

Will laughed lowly, tilting back his neck to expose it for a kiss or bite.

"Only if you carry me…"

* * *

"Death to the enemies of the Republic!"

A toy guillotine sliced right through the neck of a doll Freddie had spent two hours dressing perfectly.

"Hurrah! Justice is served!" Abigail declared solemnly, reading from her little scroll. "Assistant, bring forth the Queen."

Freddie sighed and handed her the Marie Antionette doll. "Isn't this a little excessive?"

"She is the lucky winner of the Lottery of St. Guillotine. I shall prepare her," Abigail said in her normal voice, which only unnerved Freddie more. Abigail began carefully trimming the doll's hair. "The hair should be chopped off around the neck so the blade can pass through the neck more easily. Father taught me that."

"Yes. I'm sure. While you're doing that, why don't you tell me another story?"

"Like what?"

"Well, since you love the story about your fathers so much, why don't you tell me the one about your Aunt Alana and Aunt Margot?"

Abigail looked up quickly, her braids bouncing. "Ohhhh, that story. That's a very long story that I haven't been told in completion yet. They haven't told me the detailed one yet. It's for when I'm older."

"Oh, really?"

"It's very personal. See, Auntie Margot's brother was really mean and didn't want her to marry ANYONE."

"So, how exactly is she with you now?"

"Oh, he died. He fell into his pigpen and they ate him."

A giggle from the top of the stairs shook Freddie out of her stunned state. She looked up to see Alana and Margot looking down.

They winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys like to read a slightly-more fleshed out version of the Marlana story? I've got some ideas for how it should play out, but give me your thoughts or ideas! Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! It truly means a lot!


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